


Addicted

by Skellyagogo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love, Love Confessions, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Possibly Unrequited Love, Romantic Friendship, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skellyagogo/pseuds/Skellyagogo
Summary: A night out on the town leads to something, but just as quickly turns to disappointment. You can’t forget it, or him.  Maybe it’s time to move on and away from the Avengers since you can’t forget about him.Written while listening to the song 'Addicted' by Saving Abel
Kudos: 9





	Addicted

I stood inside the archery range in the Avengers Compound, bow drawn back, target in sight, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding onto and let go of the string. I needed a distraction, something to drowned out the thoughts. 'It was just one silly night out at the bar, a stupid confession’ I thought to myself. The arrow slices through the air and hits a few inches to the left of the bullseye. 

“FUCK!” I yell in frustration. I pull out another arrow from the quiver on my back, notch the arrow in the bowstring and heft it up towards my face, pulling back I exhaled, letting go. It sears through the range hitting a few inches to the right of the bullseye.

“Fucking rat bastard piece of shit goddamned son of a bitch!” I scream at no one.

I’d placed a note on the door outside of the range not to be disturbed on pain of having Nat sicced on whoever bothered me. I was great with weapons except for this blasted annoying bow. He made it look so easy, so effortless the way he’d pull back and nail a bullseye over and over, not even looking in the direction of the target. Every free moment I had, I’d lock myself in the range and spend hours practicing. 

At first, I was left alone to do my thing but then Nat found me one-day swearing like a drunken sailor having a tantrum chucking tables and targets around in the range. She told everyone except Clint because she thought it was hilariously adorable, my stubbornness to master his signature weapon of choice. My music was blaring through the speakers in the range, door locked, lost in my thoughts. Steve, Nat, Bucky, Tony, Sam, Thor, Wanda, Vision, Pietro, they all watched me from the main living room on the giant tv screens.

“And how long has this been going on exactly?” Tony asked smiling.

“Months,” Nat said, “she can’t stand not being good at something.”

“Then why not ask Clint for help?” Steve questioned.

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Nat. They all stared at her confused. “She’s madly in love with him, has been for ages.” They watch me pull back and let another arrow fly towards the target. 

“But they’ve barely spoken or been in the same room with each other in over a month?” Bucky’s head tilted, eyes squinted watching me on the screen.

“That was around the time she came home from a night out, she stormed in all upset, muttering something about being stupid to think someone would like her,” Pietro said looking uninterested in being here. The screen showed me aiming at and failing to hit the plastic covered Styrofoam target.

“Just wait, she’ll start yelling at herself in a second, happens every time.” I started screaming profanities in frustration, I dropped the bow and paced back and forth. Clint walked into the lounge unnoticed by anyone and sat down trying to figure out what everyone was so intrigued by and why they didn’t call him to watch, he loved chaos and trouble.

“Stupid bow, stupid aim, Stupid BARTON!” I walk across the range and retrieved my arrows, checking the tips before slipping them back into my quiver. Grumbling to myself on the way back to the end of the range, I notch an arrow, let go, lands with a thunk three inches below the bullseye. “AAAAH!” I stomp over to the table with my iPod shuffling through the songs.

“Hmm this is new behavior,” Nat says curiously, people watching and studying their behavior was a guilty pleasure of hers.

I hit a button on the table, the volume in the range increased, my music blares louder through the speaker system. I walked back to the starting area of the range, notch another arrow trying to control my breathing.

“Ridiculously attractive face with that cocky little smirk,” The arrow misses again. "Stupid blue eyes that make me weak.“ Another arrow misses. "Stupid gorgeous hair.” The arrow lands far left of the target. "Stupid lips that felt so… good.“ The arrow pings off the target and slides across the range floor. The team is glancing at each other in amusement over the omission of my feelings for Clint, even if I thought I was confessing to myself. 

"For fucks sakes, it was a couple of kisses in a bar and make-out session in a cab. Stop thinking about it!” I scream at myself. I notch another arrow, pulling back with a rageful strength, but I miss by a long shot. I throw the bow in frustration. Addicted by Saving Abel starts, I scream out in frustration again and starting singing to the song, searching for a different kind of distraction.

“Sounds like she’s got it really bad for Clint, I kinda feel bad for her.” Sam’s voice sullen.

“One drunken night make-out session and I spill my guts. He said no, why’d he say no? What’s wrong with me?” My voice echoing in the range. Clint leaves the room, no one noticed he’d been there until he left, his steps louder than normal for him.

“Oh shit, this is gonna get awkward fast,” laughed Tony watching the screen. "Looks like the entertainments over kiddies,“ he smirked half out of his seat ready to head back to his lab.

"No, wait,” Wanda says with a whimsical look on her face. She knew something, Tony sat back down and smiled, he knew this was gonna get good, he was bored after all.

Five minutes go by as they watch me struggling, listening to the same. They watched the door to the range open and Clint walking in. He slipped off his jacket leaving on the table by my iPod, he silently walked up behind me, his fingers barely holding my hand that was holding the bow, he steadied the elbow of my arm that was pulling the string back. (Tony increased the volume on the tv.)

“Breath,” his hands drift to my waist turning my body ever so slightly. "Target in sight?“ I nodded yes. "Then let go.” His voice deep and gravely, but somehow soft. Bullseye. "Again.“ His voice demanding. I notched another arrow, pulled back, he was still behind me, only his face inches from mine.

"Breath,” he whispers, I exhale. "Let go,“ he says. Another bullseye. I lowered the bow but we kept our stance.

"I was wrong,” his voice barely a whisper.

“It was a drunken mistake, don’t worry about it.” My cheeks flushed as I shook my head.

“I wasn’t drunk, never touched a drop that night,” I could feel his eyes on me.

“You said no,” my voice falters.

“And I’ve regretted it every day,” he sighs.

“That wasn’t the only thing I wanted from you, you know.” I was fighting back tears.

“I know.” I dropped the bow on the floor and turned to him, frustration finally boiling over.

“I told you I loved you,” I poked his chest. "I kissed you.“ Poke. "You kissed back.” Poke. "Every day I’ve had to look at you, watch what I can’t have and you act like nothing happened.“ Poke. "I…I can’t do it anymore Clint, my heart literally shatters to pieces every time I look at you.” I turned and started walking towards the door. "I’m asking Fury for a transfer, Quill and the Guardians need an extra set of hands. “ He stared at me confused, watching me walk away. I got to the door, my fingers gripped around the handle when an arrow landed jamming the door shut.

"Clint stop being childish,” I sighed.

“Not until we talk,” a hint of that cockiness I loved in his voice.

“Now you wanna talk? When I’m leaving?” I threw my hands up in frustration, he knocked another arrow, in an instant the sleeve of my sweatshirt was pinned to the wall with his arrow.

“Stop it you ass,” I growl.

“Then talk to me.” His voice pleading.

“What is that going to solve? I told you I love you and wanted you, needed you and you said no. You walked away in true Barton fashion, whenever shit gets real and emotions get involved you walk.” He stalked across the range, eyes flashing fury, the muscles in his arms bulging as he balled his hands into fists.

“I’m not good with feelings, I have trust issues, okay. Every time I opened myself up, I got fucked over, so I shut down, closed myself up.”

“Trust issues?! Why do you think I said it while drunk, the truth is always spoken when drunk, you moron. I spilled my heart out like a blubbering idiot. I meant every word of it.”

“Why?” He bellowed.

“What what?” I furrowed my brows glaring at him angrily.

“Why me? All these other guys out there and you choose me?” He was frustrated and confused, his eyes softening the longer he looked at me, but I was angry and furious that he’d even question that someone would love him.

“You get me like no one else does. You like to be lazy on your days off, you pull me in your room, sometimes lift me over your shoulder, we eat pizza and watch terrible movies for hours on end, your analytical, and cocky but in an adorable way, you’re snarky and tell it how it is, the way you smile when you think no ones looking, all the pranks and the competitive nature, you make me laugh. I love the way you walk into the kitchen every morning with that crazy bed head hair, the way you stretch out upwards waiting for your coffee to brew and you flash your abs because your shirt lifts up.” I sighed, a thoughtful look in my eyes, a dreamy smile crept across my lips thinking about those mornings. 

“Your eyes light up when you see me and you can’t deny that, like right now. When I got captured by Hydra, you laid next to me every night for a week to reassure me that I was home and not being tortured anymore. It’s always been you and it always will be you. You’re my dork in shining leather who’d rather start a popcorn fight than watch another one of Wanda’s subtitled movies. You won’t ride your motorcycle without me because you say it’s not as fun. I love you because you’re too stubborn to admit you love me too. I don’t care about money, or fame, or buff Godly bodies. I want the movie nights in your room back, the tug of war over the blanket, the smiles, the nerf gun battles all over the compound on rainy days. Do you realize that all of that was what dating would have been anyway? Literally, nothing would have changed, but shit got too real when I said I love you.”

“You’re wrong,” he said shaking his head.

“Excuse me?” 

“I stayed with you every night for over a month when we got you back. I crawled into your bed and held you tight after those pills Strange gave you kicked in. Every night you woke up screaming my name in your sleep, I was there watching out for you. I lost my fucking mind when Hydra had you. Ask Nat and Fury, I tried to steal the jet and get you myself. The possibility that I’d never see your face again, I couldn’t do it.” 

“You pushed me away.” I looked anywhere but his face.

“Don’t go, please.” He sounded so defeated, the tears streaming down my face. He pulled my face towards him, his lips crashing into mine. "Stay,“ he kissed my cheek, "stay with me.” His lips kissed my neck, “You win, I give.” His lip grazed my jawline. "I’ve always loved you.“

"It was never about winning, you competitive ass,” we laughed, “it was about you knowing someone loves you for you, not what you can do.”

“I said no because I thought you deserved better,” he flashed that sexy smirk with a sad look in his eyes.

“There’s no one better than you, dumbass.”

He pulled the arrow out of the wall freeing my hand, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him feverishly, I could feel him smile.

“Me huh?”

“Always.”


End file.
